A long Way round
by Schattengestalt
Summary: After an hurtful argument with John, Sherlock ventures out into the night life of London and he does not pay as much attention to his surroundings as he usually would. A fatal mistake. Johnlock.
1. Hurt and Pain

**Author Notes**: This story has two chapters and the second chapter is already in progress. I hope to be able to post it in a couple of weeks. :)

**Warning**: Homophobic language, violence and sexual assault (no actual rape)! If that bothers you in any way, please don`t read it.

Rest assured there will be a lot of Comfort in the next chapter.

Enjoy and let me know what you think of it!:)

**Hurt and Pain**

Steps on the stairs. Two pairs of feet. One wearing shoes with heels.

A woman!

Giggling in the living-room, drank a little too much, but not enough to get ill, a shame. Footsteps on the stairs to John`s room now. More giggling. Why did women always have to giggle? John`s bedroom door closing, two pairs of feet moving around upstairs, two people probably getting undressed. The creaking of the bed, laughter... they definitely had got undressed.

Sherlock pressed the pillow against his ears to block out the noises coming from upstairs. He had tried to keep himself from lingering on what John and his date were doing right now by deducing everything from the sounds he was forced to listen to. It hadn`t been a successful exercise, since it had made Sherlock even more aware of what John and the woman were up to.

A high pitched scream, filled with pleasure. Sherlock groaned and turned to his side, trying to block the noises out. It wasn`t that he wanted to go to sleep and it had never bothered him if his former flatmates - or the guys at university - had indulged in carnal activities, but this was... John. Sherlock didn`t want to listen to him making love to someone else... to someone who wasn`t Sherlock.

A bitter smile turned Sherlock`s lips upwards as he stared at the wall and followed the shadows, which the light of the streetlamp drew, with his eyes. It had been wishful thinking, until this evening, that John might one day return Sherlock`s affections and take him to bed. Yes, until today, Sherlock had been allowed to dream about that happening and imagine how it would play out, but now... Sherlock turned on his back and stared at the ceiling in the dark of his bedroom. John had made it more than clear that he would never think of Sherlock like that. He hadn`t left a doubt that all of Sherlock`s dreams would just remain that... dreams, never to be fulfilled.

_"You are going out on a date." John stopped his pacing through the living room at Sherlock`s observation and turned to him. "I told you that I would, just a couple of hours ago, in fact."_

_Sherlock hummed noncommitally instead of answering and leaned back in his armchair, pretending to be absorbed in his reading. The book was about parasites and Sherlock would have been able to find it interesting, if he hadn`t been busy watching John getting ready for his outing. _

_"Melanie and I are going to the cinema and having dinner afterwards."_

_"Obvious," Sherlock muttered and looked up from his book, giving up pretence that he was actually taking in anything that was written on the pages. John always took his girlfriends to the cinema and to dinner on their third date, afterwards they would come back to the flat - or go to her place - and..._

_Sherlock curled his lips up in distaste. He didn`t want to imagine what John did with his girlfriends in bed, it hurt too much to think that they so easily got what Sherlock desired. "It`s fun to go out on dates, Sherlock. No need to look like Anderson is dancing through the flat in his underwear." A laugh escaped Sherlock at that remark. He didn`t tell John that he would prefer that to happen to John preparing to shag the next woman in a few hours. "I don`t see how a terrible movie and mediocre meal can be much worse than that scenario."_

_John huffed as he went in search of his mobile and his wallet in the living-room. They were under a pile of papers on the kitchen table, but Sherlock didn`t point that out. He rather enjoyed watching John bending over the couch to peek behind it. The tight jeans he wore, showed off his muscular legs and his firm buttocks. It had to feel great to grab them, pressing John against him, when they..._

_"You should try going out on dates as well, maybe you would understand then why people enjoy it so much." Sherlock blinked, forcing himself to pay attention to their conversation instead of daydreaming about John and him in bed. "I told you that this wasn`t my area."_

_John snorted, moving through the papers on his armchair, still in search of his belongings. "You said that girlfriends weren`t your area and that you are married to your work, you didn`t say anything about dating."_

_Sherlock rolled his eyes at that and sighed inwardly. He really didn`t want to have a conversation with John about dating, especially since John was the only one, for which`s sake Sherlock would ever be able to endure a dull date like that. "I`m not dating."_

_Blue eyes looked startled at him, before their expression softened. "Sorry, I know that you don`t... I mean your brother said... Sorry, it`s really not my business... it`s fine, everything is..."_

_"Please, John," Sherlock heaved an exasperated sigh and moved to the kitchen table to retrieve John`s mobile and wallet for him. "Just because my brother mocks me about my sexual history, doesn`t mean that there is any truth in it."_

_"Eh okay."_

_Sherlock shook his head in annoyance. How could John truly believe that Sherlock hadn`t experimented with sex like he experimented with everything else?_

_"But Irene Adler, you seemed... out of your depth."_

_"And you can`t imagine that was only because I`m not interested in women and therefore don`t know how to handle it when one throws herself at me?" Christ, how did they start a conversation about their sexual preferences? And why had he just admitted that he didn`t know how to handle women? The evening was getting worse and worse._

_John put his wallet and mobile in his jeans pockets, obviously stalling for time as he fumbled with his keys to put them in there as well. "Sorry," John finally looked up, a small blush in his cheeks. "I didn`t mean to imply anything, but... if you like men, why aren`t you..." He made a vague gesture with his hand and Sherlock wanted to scream in fury. It lay on the tip of his tongue to tell him that he didn`t seek out other men, because he wanted no one else, but the one ex-military doctor in his living-room, but he stopped himself before the words could come out. Instead, Sherlock snarled: "If I want to have someone in my bed, then I`m not so hypocritical that I have to go out on three dates to justify a night with him."_

_The expression on John`s face changed from curious to angry and cold in a heartbeat. "So, you are telling me that I only want to shag the women I`m going out with and that I should just take them home to ravish them, instead of dating them?" Sherlock knew that he shouldn`t say anything else, that it would be wiser to drop the matter entirely, because John was angry enough already, but he... just couldn`t do that. "Exactly, since you don`t seem to care for them after you have had them three or four times. It would be much easier for everyone to skip the boring pleasantries and get down to business right away."_

_John`s expression had become furious as he listened to him and Sherlock prepared himself for an outburst of some kind, but wasn`t able to foresee the effects of John`s next words. "Maybe, you can`t be bothered with such trivialities, but I certainly enjoy going out with women and," John glared at Sherlock. "They certainly enjoy going out with me. Maybe, you are only against dating, because no one could endure an evening in your presence. It certainly wouldn`t be my first choice to listen to tales of gruesome murders and disgusting experiments all evening long." Liar, Sherlock wanted to say, since John certainly enjoyed their evenings together, but the word was stuck in his throat. John`s words hurt and he wasn`t even finished yet. "No sane human being would want to shag you after hearing such tales all evening long. It`s off putting and I`m sure they would rather make a run for the door, instead of touching you, after you have shown them that you are..."_

_"What?!" Sherlock snapped, jumping up from his armchair - in which he had just sat down again - and rounding on John. "They would have noticed that I`m what exactly? A psychopath or... a freak?!" John took a step back, his eyes widening in panic as he stared at Sherlock, obviously just noticing what he had said. "Sherlock," he extended his hand, but Sherlock took a step back, shaking his head. "Don`t! You just implied how disgusting it is to touch me, so just don`t."_

_Sherlock turned around to his bedroom, slamming the door and locking it, before throwing himself on his bed, calling himself an idiot for ever hoping that John would want anything from him._

Afterwards, Sherlock had lain in bed, ignoring the knocking on his bedroom door and John`s apologizes, until John had finally given up and had gone out on his date. Of course, Sherlock was aware that John was sorry for what he had thrown at Sherlock, but that didn`t lessen the stabbing pain in Sherlock`s chest. John might not have meant what he had said, but he was still right.

Sherlock only admitted it reluctantly, but he had emotions after all and when he had been at university, he hadn`t been so adapt at hiding them as he was now. To be truthful, Sherlock hadn`t seen the need to hide his emotions back then. Partly, because he wanted to prove Mycroft wrong - who had always told him that emotions were a weakness - and also because Sherlock had wanted to feel like every other young man. Sherlock had wanted to fall in love to go out with someone he liked and enjoy their time together, only... He hadn`t been like other young men!

Sherlock took a shaky breath. John`s assumptions had been correct, no one had wanted to spend more time than necessary with him, disgusted by his descriptions of chemical experiments and annoyed that Sherlock wasn`t able to enjoy a noisy and dull evening at the pub. They had all made it very clear that they only wanted sex from him.

_"That was fantastic, Holmes."_

_Sherlock watched as Michael got dressed, while lying between the rumpled sheets himself. He tried not to read too much in the use of his last name. Still, Sherlock couldn`t completely suppress the hurt it caused him. After all, they weren`t just fellow students, they had just... Christ, Michael had just been __**in**__ Sherlock, had screamed in ecstasy when he had come and brought Sherlock to his climax as well. They should really be on first name basis. "Michael," Sherlock started and took heart in the fact that he wasn`t scolded for the use of the man`s given name. "We could go out tomorrow evening, if you like. There is a nice French restaurant..."_

_The cold stare of his lover stopped Sherlock midsentence. "Just for the record, Holmes, I don`t want to go out with you. If you want to fuck again, that`s great and I`m certainly up for it, but I don`t want to listen to your talks about parasites or serial killers." Michael curled his lips up in disgust. "It`s fucking off putting!"_

_Sherlock stared at him in disbelief. Parasites and serial killers were interesting and not in the least disgusting, but if Michael didn`t want to talk about them, Sherlock could certainly find a different topic to talk about. "We can talk about something else, it`s no problem..." Michael snorted as he buttoned up his shirt. "It`s a problem, because even if you don`t talk about so disgusting topics, you are still making deductions about everyone else. It`s unnerving. Everyone at university thinks so and I certainly don`t want to be associated with you."_

_That hurt, that really hurt, but Sherlock wasn`t ready to give up just yet. He rather liked Michael. He wasn`t as stupid as most blokes and Sherlock had watched him with one of his former lovers from afar. Michael was tender, gentle and romantic, everything that Sherlock was secretly dreaming of. "But I can..."_

_"No, Holmes, listen to me!" Michael glared at him as he collected his wallet and key from the nightstand. "I don`t want to go out with you. I don`t want to be your boyfriend. I don`t want to be seen with you outside this bedroom. Even if you manage to shut up, it`s still obvious that you aren`t normal. You are just fucking... freakish."_

_Sherlock wasn`t able to find a fitting response to that as he was too busy holding back his tears until Michael was out of the room. Only then, when the door had closed behind him, Sherlock __allowed __the moisture to fall._

It had been the last time, Sherlock had bothered to date anyone. After the disaster with Michael he had only indulged in anonymous sex to satisfy his body`s needs and his curiosity. That was, until John Watson had walked into his life and told Sherlock how brilliant his deductions were. Against his better judgment, Sherlock had started to hope that John would accept him like he was. That the only issue would be to make John admit that he wasn`t as uninterested in men as he tried to make everyone believe. Sherlock was fairly certain that John could appreciate a handsome bloke and that John only had to realize that he was bisexual, before Sherlock could make a move. But now...

"Oh yes, Joooohn!"

Sherlock gagged as he heard the high pitched scream and rolled himself out of his bed. He couldn`t stand it any longer, he had to go out, before he did something he would regret later - like murdering that stupid woman and having to ask Mycroft to hide everything. It took Sherlock only five minutes to choose his clothes - tight, black jeans, a blue t-shirt and a leather jacket - and then he was out of the flat. If John was able to shag a mindless woman, Sherlock certainly was able to get off with some stranger as well.

He hailed a taxi to one of the more popular gay bars in London.

OOO

"Where are you with your thoughts, John?" Startled, John met Melanie`s gaze and smiled ruefully at the beautiful brunette. He had had a great time with her, going to the cinema, having dinner and making passionate love to her only ten minutes ago. Really, he should be happy and content, instead of allowing his earlier argument with Sherlock to spoil his mood. Yes, he should enjoy that moment, snuggled against a beautiful, naked woman in his bed, but... He couldn`t, John`s mind always went back to the hurtful words he had thrown at Sherlock.

Alright, Sherlock had annoyed him and he had behaved like a real prat, but that wasn`t an excuse for John`s verbal abuse. Sherlock often behaved like that, making John angry for no reason and John had never reacted to one of Sherlock`s taunts like that. He had hurt Sherlock, deliberately, with his words and they had been completely untrue as well. John had never thought of Sherlock as a freak or a psychopath and he hadn`t wanted to make Sherlock feel like he did. He especially didn`t want Sherlock to believe that John thought him disgusting, when the opposite was the truth. Sherlock was...

"Who is Sherlock?"

John jerked up at that and stared in Melanie`s curious green eyes. Why did she ask him about Sherlock now? John had made a great effort to not mention Sherlock during all his dates with her and he didn`t know how she could know of him. "He is my flatmate." It was the truth after all, although John often wished that they were more than that... more than just friends that shared a flat. Undoubtedly, he had destroy every chance he had ever had for that tonight.

"He... so Sherlock is a man." Melanie sounded even more curious now and John frowned at that.

"Yes, he is, of course, he is." Had Melanie feared that John shared a flat with a woman? No, that couldn`t be it, John had mentioned that he shared the flat with a friend, but what...

"Why do you want to talk about him now?" His voice was sharper than John had intended it to be, but Melanie didn`t look alarmed by it. She just smiled and patted his arm gently. "I was just curious who you thought of when you slept with me."

John blinked. His confusion must have been shown on his face, since Melanie laughed quietly and shook her head at him. "Please, John, you screamed his name when you came." Heat crept into John`s face as his expression turned from confused to mortified. Dear God, what must Melanie think of him now? John couldn`t imagine how he would feel if one of his lovers screamed another name, when they were in bed with him. He would have fled the bedroom right away or demanded an explanation, but Melanie... she was perfectly calm. "I... Melanie, I`m sorry, it`s just..."

"Hush," she put a finger on his lips and silenced him. "It`s fine, no need to apologize. To tell you the truth," she sat up and leaned against the headboard of his bed. "I wanted to tell you that I don`t think it`s working out between us and I`m glad that you have feelings for someone else." John gaped at her. He had expected a lot of reactions, but certainly not that one. "So, you... I hope I didn`t force you or anything..." John knew that he had been eager to get in Melanie`s pants, especially after his row with Sherlock, when he had tried to forget how cruel he had been to him for some time. Melanie had willingly gone with him, but she had had a few drinks and maybe she had felt obliged to come with him and...

A delighted laugh stopped his train of thoughts and Melanie pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Please John, I said that it`s not working out between us, I didn`t say that I didn`t want to have sex with you. Don`t confuse the two. If I hadn`t want to sleep with you, I hadn`t done it, period." John merely nodded, still too startled to speak, but thankfully Melanie put him out of his misery. "So, now that we are clear on that and both our minds are at ease, you can tell me why you go out with me, when you are obviously in love with your male flatmate." Her words weren`t accusing or judging, just curious and a little amused and John found himself confiding in her.

"I`m bisexual and Sherlock isn`t the first bloke I have fallen for." Melanie only nodded, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder and urging him to continue. "I would have made a move on him, but..." John bit his lips, unsure if it was fine to reveal anything more personal to Melanie. After all, some of the things he wanted to say weren`t only his private secrets, but Sherlock`s as well.

"Is he straight?" John snorted and shook his head, deciding that he could trust Melanie with a few more information, especially since he felt like he would burst, if he didn`t talk about his feelings with someone. "I rather thought that he is asexual."

Melanie raised a silent eyebrow at him. "However did you come to that conclusion? And why would that have hindered you to show him how you feel? Love can be platonic as well, you know." John rolled his eyes at that, but smiled at the same time. Trust Melanie to act like the therapist she was, when they were lying in bed together. Well, at least her questions made more sense than the questions of John`s own therapist and she didn`t look at him like she already knew what he was going to say. "I know that love can be platonic, but I wouldn`t have been able to only love Sherlock in a platonic way, if I had confessed my feelings to him... and I wouldn`t have wanted to... search release elsewhere. Besides, I wasn`t even sure if such a confession would be welcome."

"Okay, I understand that." Melanie nodded and from the look she gave him, it was obvious that she spoke the truth. "And why are you so sure that he isn`t asexual after all?"

John sighed, recalling their row and what Sherlock had told him about his preferences and sexual history, before everything had gone down the hill. "He told me... in no uncertain terms that he is gay and has gained sexual experiences with men."

Now, it was Melanie`s turn to look startled at him. Her tongue peeked out between her lips as she regarded John with confusion. "Then why - for Christ`s sake - didn`t you tell Sherlock that you fancy him. And please," she glared at him. "Don`t say that our date was more important than that. I would have understood it and even if I hadn`t, it`s only normal to be selfish when it comes to love." John heaved a sigh. Melanie was right. He should have made a move on Sherlock and tested if his feelings would be welcome, instead John had...

"I hurt him."

"Physically?"

John`s eyes widened in shock at that question. "No, of course not, although," John buried his face in his hands as his cheeks flushed with shame. "Sherlock would have been more likely to forgive me if I had punched him in the face, instead of... what I did." Melanie`s fingers stroked his hair and John wondered how it was possible for her to sit here - naked - and have such a in depth conversation with him. "What did you do?"

John snorted and sat up as well, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against the headboard.

"Oh nothing much, I just implied that he was disgusting and that no one would want to touch him. I might also have hinted that the men would only want to have sex with him and nothing else." John felt Melanie`s eyes boring in his skull. Perfect, he had even managed to shock an experienced therapist with what he had said to Sherlock. That boded very well for his planned apologizes, he thought cynical.

"John," Melanie gripped his wrists and forced them to his sides, away from his face as she straddled his lap to meet his gaze. Only half an hour ago that position would have been highly arousing, but it didn`t spark the slightest interest in John right now. "I don`t know Sherlock and I don`t know why you were so angry that you offended him like that, but you have to apologize to him." John exhaled loudly. Did Melanie think that he was such an idiot, that he didn`t know that himself? The question wasn`t if he was willing to apologize, but if Sherlock was willing to accept it.

"Tell him what you feel for him! Show him that you love him! Beg him on your knees for forgiveness if you have to, but don`t give up just after one apology."

"Why do you do that?" John was truly curious. Melanie had just told him that she didn`t want to be his girlfriend after all. It was one thing for her to be curious about Sherlock, but quite another to be so eager about Sherlock and him making up.

She gave him a rueful smile. "I made the same mistake, when I was younger. I allowed my mouth to speak, before I had the time to think my words through and at the end of the day, I had lost a great friend. I didn`t make the effort to truly apologize to him, back then and I still regret it. Maybe, that`s my way of trying to make up for it."

John groaned quietly. "I know that I have to apologize to him, but I can`t promise..." She interrupted him with a chaste kiss to the lips and rolled out of the bed. "Just give your best and be patient." Melanie had put her underwear, skirt and blouse back on, by the time, John finally realised what she was doing. "You are going?" She only rolled her eyes at him as she slipped her shoes back on and grabbed her handbag. "It wouldn`t help you if I were to stay the night, John. Tell me how it went though and if you need a friend to talk to, you have my number."

John couldn`t even formulate a reply, before Melanie hurried down the stairs. He listened to her high heels on the stone floor and the front door opening. That was the strangest date he had ever had, but for once John was glad that it had turned out like that. He had just lost a girlfriend, but probably gained a friend for a lifetime and... he had to apologize to Sherlock once more. Moaning, John swung his legs out of the bed and put on his jeans and t-shirt to go downstairs. He dreaded the conversation with Sherlock, but he was still disappointed when he found the flat empty. He even peeked in Sherlock`s - now open - bedroom, but it was obvious that Sherlock had gone out.

Sighing, John decided that he could as well take a shower and put some fresh clothes on, while he waited for his friend to come back home. It would certainly help a little, if John wasn`t smelling of sex, when he wanted to apologize to Sherlock. At least, John hoped that it would help - and that Sherlock would even be willing to listen to him - as he went to the bathroom.

OOO

It had been child`s play.

Sherlock had feared that he wouldn`t know anymore how to pull a bloke, but his worries had been unfounded. As soon as he had entered the _Black Pool_, Sherlock had been subjected to more advances than he had hoped for. Many blokes had been eager to get him on the dance floor, treat him to drinks and take him home with them. Sherlock hadn`t accepted any of these offers. He hadn`t wanted to go home with a stranger, indulge in small talk or get drunk. No, Sherlock had only been after someone to get him off fast... and he had found the perfect bloke for that.

"You`re beautiful," the man whispered from between his legs.

"Shut up and suck me!" Sherlock growled as he leaned back against the stone wall, outside of the club.

Blue eyes, clouded with lust, looked up at him as the man licked his lips. "Bossy, I like that!"

Before Sherlock could remind him once more that he hadn`t come here to talk, the man did as he was told and Sherlock leaned his head back against the wall. He could hear the nightly traffic, just around the corner of the club and the voices of men, almost drowned out by the beats that came through the open doors of the club. Sherlock glanced down at the man between his legs - light blond hair obscuring his face as he kneeled in front of him - and allowed himself the imagination that this was John. His mind created a scenario in which John had followed him to the club, scared off all of Sherlock`s admirers and brought him out here. John would have kissed him, told him how sorry he was for his words and how much he loved Sherlock and then...

"Ahhh, yes!" Sherlock groaned, his hips jerking as he got closer to his climax. He grabbed the hair of the man in front of him, trying to warn him that he was about to come, but if the bloke understood it, he still didn`t let go of Sherlock.

"God... John!" Sherlock screamed as he came into the willing mouth of the stranger, shaking as his orgasm washed over him. If it hadn`t been for the support of the wall, Sherlock`s legs would have buckled after his powerful climax. A few minutes, in which Sherlock concentrated on getting his breath back, passed as he allowed the stranger to tuck him back into his jeans. He would have to return the favor, Sherlock realised as the beating of his heart slowed down to normal again. He grimaced a little at that thought, but as cold hearted as Sherlock could be, it wasn`t in his nature to leave his sexual partners unsatisfied.

"I hope I was a good substitute!" Sherlock frowned at the bitter tone of the young man and managed to crack his eyes open. He almost flinched as he met the cold gaze of the stranger and noticed the other men that had gathered around him. Damned, he hadn`t noticed their arrival, since he had been to focused on the sensations that had run through his body.

"Gentlemen," Sherlock held up his hands in a gesture of peace offering as the men closed around him. "Don`t do anything you will regret later!" Blue eyes flickered fast from one man to the other, taking in their aggressive postures and trying to decide on the best course of action. The stranger, that had just sucked him off, was back on his feet, taking a place between the other men. Ten, Sherlock nodded with a sinking feeling in his gut. There were ten of them, including the stranger. He knew that he was more than capable of fighting, but Sherlock wasn`t prone to overestimating his own abilities. He wouldn`t be able to take them all down, so he had to try to escape before everything got out of hand.

"I hope you had some fun, faggot!"

Stupid, Sherlock chastised himself as the men grinned meanly at him. He should have realised that the stranger - who was patted on the shoulder by his friends - didn`t really belong in that club. Sherlock had often enough witnessed how men fell for that particular trick. A good looking bloke, offering them a blow job and getting them away from the crowd so that his friends could beat them up. Really, it was one of the oldest tricks and Sherlock had never fallen for it, not even when he had been high on cocaine. It was truly stupid. "His performance was rather mediocre," Sherlock replied bored and fingered for his phone in his back pocket. It was good that he had learned to send messages with closed eyes and his hands behind his back, otherwise he would be in even more trouble than he already was.

"Trying to be smart, we will see how cheeky you are when we are through with you." Sherlock pressed _Send_, prayed that it wouldn`t take the help to long to arrive and lunged himself at the bloke, closest to him.

It wasn`t what they had expected and Sherlock managed to bring the man down with a swinger to his kidney area, before the others were on him as well. Everything became a bit of a blur after that. Sherlock allowed his body`s instincts to take over, dealing out blows and kicks, ducking and blocking as he was attacked from all sides. Blood filled his mouth as a fist connected with his lips, but Sherlock just spat before landing a kick between the legs of one man. He went down with a groan, but Sherlock didn`t have the time to celebrate the small victory. Hands seized his arms, preventing him from blocking the next fist aimed at his face. He was only able to turn his head to the side and the blow landed on his cheek, instead of breaking his nose. Sherlock kicked out with his legs, hitting a careless bloke in the face. The cracking of his nose was music to Sherlock`s ears.

"You sodding fag!" Sherlock didn`t have the chance to point out the origins of the two words to the men as a fist was rammed in his stomach. His legs buckled and Sherlock found himself on his knees as more blows were dealt to his middle section. They didn`t do that for the first time, Sherlock realised as his vision started to become blurred. It was clear that they knew where to hit him to render him immobile, but it was also obvious that they were careful not to injury him too badly. They stayed clear of his back and of his head as well. That was rather reassuring, Sherlock thought with a soupcon of cynicism. His head swam as he was wrestled to the ground, held down by four men and a groan escaped Sherlock`s lips as his abused front connected with the hard floor.

"Don`t try anything or I`ll break your back, fag!" A boot was pressed on his back and Sherlock thought that he should take it as a compliment to his fighting skills that they still thought he would be able to harm them in this position. "What now?" He spat out, since they had obviously enough of beating him up.

Cruel laughter. "Oh don`t worry, fag! We will give you exactly what you want!"

A cold shudder ran down Sherlock`s spine as hands grabbed the waistband of his jeans. He tried to kick out to scream for help - although Sherlock knew that it would be in vain - but he wasn`t able to do either. His whole focus was on the hands on his jeans as they drew it down to his thighs and his underwear with it. Sherlock`s breath escaped in labored pants from his lips as strangers grabbed his buttocks. "You look like you are as tight as a fourteen year old virgin." Sherlock stared at the sandy ground, willing his mind to find a way out of this situation. He could endure beatings and taunts, torture of the highest levels, but not... not that. "No, Mike, not you!" Sherlock heard the voice of a man behind him. "Martin did the disgusting work today, he should be rewarded."

Ah Martin, that had to be the bloke, that had sucked Sherlock of only moments ago. They obviously took turns of who had to find a prey. Or maybe they drew lots or... it didn`t matter. Sherlock took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to hold back a sob as he heard the sound of an opening zipper. If he concentrated really hard, he could feel the beats of the music vibrating through the ground and listen to the laughter of people on the street. None of them knowing what was happening right behind the club, no one caring...

A tear ran down his cheek as cruel fingers grabbed his buttocks, spreading them, baring his most private place to these men. "Christ, I thought I was ready!" Laughter and mocking remarks as the hands let go of Sherlock`s buttocks again. He hadn`t been hard enough, the still functioning part of Sherlock`s mind supplied. A brief delay, until Martin would manage to get fully erect and then...

Cars - heavy cars from the sound of it - pulled into the street behind the club. Doors opening and feet on the ground, running in Sherlock`s direction. The blokes around Sherlock seemed to be frozen in place and Sherlock managed to turn his head to the side as armed men arrived in the backyard. "Away from him, at once!"

They obeyed. Obviously, they weren`t so keen on getting a bullet through their heads. Sherlock scrambled to his knees as soon as his arms and legs were released and exhaled slowly. Men and women in black suits surrounded his would - have - been -rapists and crowded them against the wall.

"You certainly know how to spoil my quiet evening, brother dear." Sherlock growled half-heartedly at Mycroft as his brother stepped in front of him, but he didn`t really have it in him right now to get in an argument with Mycroft. The grey eyes that had regarded him coldly only a minute ago, were now frowning down at him with concern. It didn`t take someone like Mycroft to notice what had just happened here, since Sherlock hadn`t even had the time to cover himself. "Brother mine," Sherlock startled as Mycroft grabbed him under his arms and hauled him to his feet. He would have fallen if it hadn`t been for the steadying arms of his brother. At any other time, Sherlock would have been appalled at his behavior, but he was too worn out to care one way or another as he leaned heavily against Mycroft. Gentle hands drew his underwear and jeans back up and Sherlock took a shaky breath as he was completely covered once more.

"Thank God, they didn`t rape you." It was a relieved statement and Sherlock only nodded. He felt weak and shaken, his body starting to tremble as the shock set in. Sherlock didn`t protest as Mycroft led him away to one of the cars, not caring what would happen to Sherlock`s attackers. Mycroft`s staff would take care of them.

"I didn`t think that it was that serious when I got your message." Sherlock only shrugged and curled up on the rear bench seat. He didn`t want to talk with Mycroft right now, he didn`t want to talk with anyone, Sherlock just wanted... to go home. A hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, before the engine of the car was started. "The good doctor can take care of you, Sherlock, since I presume that you want to go back to Baker Street." It wasn`t a question, but Sherlock still nodded. "Very well," Mycroft said something to the driver and they left the club behind them. "I will personally take care of these bastards."

Sherlock allowed himself a small smile. "Language, Mycroft." Instead of a snarky rebuke, the hand of his brother settled in Sherlock`s curls and stroked him tenderly. He had to be truly in shock, Sherlock thought to himself as he leaned into the comforting touch of his brother. And Mycroft had to suffer from a head injury, judging from his behavior, but Sherlock didn`t protest. Instead he closed his eyes as he was driven back home.


	2. Care and Comfort

**Author Notes**: That`s the second and last chapter to this story and I hope that you are going to enjoy how it ends. :)

Thanks to the anonymous reviewer who said that they liked Melanie! :) I like her as well and I had fun writing her! =)

**Care and Comfort**

John startled as the front door downstairs was opened. It took him some time to register that he was sitting in his favorite armchair and that the arms of the clock being close to midnight. He had fallen asleep.

Groaning, John stretched his back and grimaced as his muscles popped back into place. The armchair wasn`t the best place to fall asleep for a man his age. The only good thing was, that John had heard Sherlock coming home and he wouldn`t have to wait until the morning - or worse, evening - to talk with him. He got up from his chair, deciding that it would be a good idea to have some tea if they were to talk about their argument - or argue once more - when John heard voices from the direction of the stairway. He frowned and walked over to the door. Yes, there were voices, two men if he wasn`t mistaken, discussing quietly with each other and John opened the door a crack to listen more closely.

"I`m fine, Mycroft. It was just a minor beating, I don`t need you to..."

"It wasn`t just a beating, Sherlock and you know that. What they did to you..."

Sherlock hissed something, John couldn`t quite make out, but it didn`t really matter one way or the other. The fact that Mycroft had brought his brother home and that Sherlock had obviously been beaten up, was enough to get John into motion. Opening the door fully and turning on the light, John looked down the stairs and at the two men.

"Ah, John, good to see you. I`m sure you don`t mind taking care of my dearest brother." John frowned slightly at Mycroft`s tone. He was used to sarcastic or cynic remarks, but not to the faint worry in the voice of the British Government. Maybe, John mused as he hurried down the stairs to Sherlock`s side, it was only his imagination that made him believe that Mycroft was worried about his brother. After all, John himself felt worried and it would only be natural to transfer his own feelings to Mycroft - at least if he recalled his semester in psychology correctly.

The light in the stairway wasn`t bright enough to examine Sherlock throughout, but John still noticed the blood on the corner of Sherlock`s mouth and the dark swelling of his right cheek. John gulped at the damage done to Sherlock`s face, but felt relieved at the same time. It looked like Sherlock had gotten away lightly, also judging from the fact that Mycroft had brought his brother home, instead of forcing him to stay at a clinic over night.

"Sherlock," John extended his hand to his friend`s face, only to have it slapped away as Sherlock brushed past him, up the stairs. "I don`t need your help!" John narrowed his eyes at that, a remark already on the tip of his tongue as he watched Sherlock hurrying up the stairs, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped John from making his displeasure known. John glared up at Mycroft, but the obvious worry in the usually cold eyes, made him pause. He couldn`t remember that look on the older Holmes` face and it worried him more than if the whole of Scotland Yard had waited at their doorstep at this hour. "What happened, Mycroft?"

Mycroft shook his head, glancing upstairs. "It`s not my place to tell you, John, but," Mycroft fidget with his umbrella and John`s unease grew a tenfold. "Be gentle with him, will you?" Dumbfounded, John nodded. He wasn`t able to voice another question, as Mycroft turned around and ended their conversation efficiently.

Of course, John could have insisted on getting more information, but firstly, he knew that Mycroft wouldn`t tell him anything, if he didn`t want to and secondly... he had to look after Sherlock. Hurrying up the stairs, John found Sherlock sitting on the couch. That in itself was worrying, since John couldn`t remember a time, when Sherlock had _sat _on the couch, instead of sprawling on it. Something worse than a beating must have happened and John had no idea what it could have been. Maybe, Sherlock had stumbled across a National Security matter and Mycroft had needed to interfere to... No, John shook his head at that thought as he moved through the room, until he stood in front of Sherlock. If Sherlock had gotten involved in such a case, he would be in a different mood, even if he had been beaten up. He would be boasting about his success or ranting about the stupidity of people... or both, but Sherlock wouldn`t do nothing.

John worried his lip with his teeth as he glanced down at the bowed head of his brilliant flatmate. Maybe, Sherlock was still too angry about John`s earlier insults to wish to speak with him. At any other night, John would have taken the hint of Sherlock`s continued silence and had gone to bed, but not tonight. John had sworn to himself that he would discuss his feelings with Sherlock when he came back and even if John hadn`t... he couldn`t leave Sherlock to his own device, when he was hurt. "Sherlock," John started again, extending his hand like he had done before and was met with an icy glare that froze him to the spot.

"Don`t touch me, John!"

The words were a mere hiss and John took a step back as blue eyes - blazing with anger - narrowed at him. He had rarely seen Sherlock so angry or at least, John thought sadly, the anger hadn`t been directed at him. It was a frightening sight and John was sure that Anderson would have wet himself, if Sherlock`s glare had been directed at him. Good that he wasn`t as easily scared as the incompetent forensic doctor. After all, John hadn`t served in the army to back down from his hurt flatmate. "Your brother said that you were beaten up. I have to see your injuries if you want me to help you."

A bitter laugh escaped past Sherlock`s lips. "Why would I want you to help me?"

John squared his shoulders and stood straighter, glaring down at Sherlock like he was a new recruit that didn`t know his place yet. "Because, either you let me mend you back together or I`m calling the ambulance."

The words hung in the air like an ultimatum. Wide, blue eyes stared at him in disbelief, but John stood his ground as he returned Sherlock`s gaze. He didn`t want to call the ambulance, but John certainly wouldn`t allow Sherlock to remain without medical help. Especially, since John couldn`t guess on the extent of his injuries. Sherlock must have come to the same conclusions as a look of defeat crossed his face that was replaced with determination only a second later. "Fine, if you wish to examine me, Doctor," Sherlock spat the last word as he got up from the couch and started to draw his shirt over his head. "Then of course, I can`t argue with you about that."

"What?" John uttered in complete confusion as Sherlock unzip his jeans and pushed them down - together with his underwear - before kicking them away. John only had a moment to notice the slight bruising around Sherlock`s ribs and abdomen, before he was treated to the sigh of Sherlock`s back. In any other circumstances the sight of a completely naked Sherlock would have been arousing, but John only felt horrified as his eyes wandered over Sherlock`s back. There was a bruise on his upper back that looked like a shoe print and several more bruises everywhere, but they weren`t as bad as... John took a shaking breath as he stared at Sherlock`s rear and thighs. There were bruises and John didn`t need to be a genius to recognize that hands had left them there. Rough hands, that had grabbed Sherlock`s buttocks and... "Oh God!" John whispered, overcome with horror and rage all at once. Now, he knew why even Mycroft had sounded so worried, why he had asked John to be gentle with Sherlock and...

"Is that enough?!" John flinched as Sherlock wheeled back around. His hands were clenched into fists at his side, a faint tremor running through his body, but somehow Sherlock still managed to glare at John for all that he was worth. "Are you happy now?"

Aghast, John shook his head. "Happy?" He echoed, a sick feeling in his stomach as he met Sherlock`s gaze. It wasn`t hard to bring himself not to let his eyes wander to Sherlock`s crotch. The situation was far from being arousing or intimate after all.

"Yes, happy!" Sherlock crossed his arms in front of his chest, probably to prevent them from shaking. "After all, you told me - only this evening - just how disgusting you think I`m. Shouldn`t you be happy that someone else was of the same opinion? That there are more people that think that I`m only good enough for a fast fuck and..."

"Stop it, Sherlock! Just stop it!" John noticed the crack in his voice, but he couldn`t care less about it. A whirlwind of emotions was rushing through him and it was hard enough to just _breathe _around the knot in his chest. John couldn`t handle Sherlock throwing his earlier words back at him on top of everything else. It wouldn`t have been a problem - at least not a huge one - if Sherlock had only been beaten up, but as the evidence lay... John pressed his lips together to suppress a sob as he imagined how someone - more than one? - had had their hands on Sherlock, forcing him to the ground and...

"I don`t need your pity," Sherlock spat, his eyes fixed on a point behind John. "It`s my own fault. I went out to get off and didn`t pay attention to my surroundings. Actually, I should have been able to take ten men down, but obviously..."

"Ten!" John chocked at the word, his chest heaving with a forced intake of breath. Just when he had thought that it couldn`t get any worse, it was just doing that. One man was bad enough, but ten men... ten men who had had their hands on Sherlock and raped...

"Mycroft came in time, they didn't get what they were after. No need to pity me." Sherlock sounded defeated and tired and it took some time before John`s mind was able to process what the words meant. When he did, a heavy weigh lifted from his shoulders, but the anger and the sick feeling in his stomach remained.

"So you... weren`t... raped?" Blue eyes narrowed at him, the intimidating effect being lost as more tremors ran through Sherlock`s body. John felt the sudden urge to wrap a woolen blanket around Sherlock`s body and put him to bed, but he wasn`t even able to move, before Sherlock spoke again. "No, I wasn`t raped! But I rather thought that you would remark on my need for getting off with a stranger and how disgusting it is!" Sherlock shifted his weigh to glance towards the bedroom upstairs. "Don`t you want to call your girlfriend down, so that she has a good laugh as well?!"

That was enough! John grabbed Sherlock`s wrists and pushed him back down on the couch, putting his hands on both sides on the wall next to Sherlock`s head to prevent him from getting up. "Listen, Sherlock Holmes!" John snarled as he loomed over him. "I won`t allow you to push me away right now! I know your tricks and I know that you are trying to annoy me, until I have enough and leave you alone, but you won`t be successful with that strategy!" Sherlock didn`t respond and instead kept staring at John, his blue eyes wide with surprise. "I`m not going to leave you alone, after what you have been through. These men," John grimaced in disgust at the thought of them. "Might not have gotten the chance to rape you, but it`s obvious that they scared you and that you are shaken. Don`t pretend otherwise," John warned and leaned in closer. "I have seen enough men that have lived through a horrible ordeal and I know the signs when someone is in shock."

A shuddering breath escaped Sherlock`s lips. "So, you say that you are here because you have sworn the Hippocratic oath and you can`t leave your patient alone?" A bitter smile passed over Sherlock`s face. "You don`t have to bother, I`m certainly not going to tell anyone, if you are going back to your girlfriend." John grinded his teeth in frustration. If they awarded the Nobel Price for annoying behavior, he was sure that Sherlock would have already gained a lot of them. Still, he couldn`t allow his emotions to get the better of him. Sherlock might pretend that he was completely in control, but John knew otherwise. They way, Sherlock leaned back into the cushions of the couch and tried to get more distance between them, was more telling than his snarls and glares. "Firstly, Melanie already left hours ago and before you try to attack me with that knowledge, let me tell you that she left because she could never hope to compete with you."

Surprise flickered over Sherlock`s face and John smiled slightly at that. He hadn`t planned on revealing everything to Sherlock tonight, but John had already started with his confession and he wasn`t so cowardly that he wouldn`t see it through to the end. "So, it`s safe to say that I`m not hear because of my profession, but because I care for you, Sherlock... deeply." There was still no answer from Sherlock and John lowered his arms to his sides and kneeled down on the couch. It didn`t feel right to crowed Sherlock in any way, when he was about to confess his feelings to him. "I`m not disgusted with you, I never was. I`m sorry - so terrible sorry - for what I said before, but I was just... I was angry about what you said."

"Because I criticized your dating habits." Sherlock didn`t sound aggressive anymore as he kept on staring at his feet. "No... at least, that wasn`t all of it." Now, John had gotten Sherlock`s whole attention, the sharp blue eyes were fixed on him, as he obviously tried to make sense of John`s words. "You had just told me that you were interested in men and that you used to go to bed with strangers and I..."

"You were disgusted." It wasn`t an accusation, but John hated the way Sherlock`s shoulders slumped even more than if Sherlock had verbally crucified him. "No," John put his hand on Sherlock`s shoulder and was relieved, when Sherlock neither flinched nor pushed it away. "I would be a hypocrite if I said so." If the situation wasn`t so serious, John would have been laughing at how the blue eyes widened in surprise. Obviously, Sherlock didn`t know everything about him. "But you... you said that you aren`t gay." John shook his head.

"I`m not gay. I`m bisexual."

"You never told me."

John sighed and leaned forward to place his other hand on Sherlock`s cheek, applying a gentle pressure to force him to turn his head and look at him. "I didn`t think it was important, especially since I thought that you," John gestured vague to Sherlock, before settling the hand back on his shoulder. "After the case with Irene Adler, I thought that you weren`t interested in anything sexual and when you told me this evening that you were interested in men, I... I was jealous, because I didn`t want anyone else to have you. I wanted you for myself. That`s why I lashed out at you and I`m... sorry for that." Sherlock gaped at him. John held his breath as he waited for Sherlock`s reaction to his confession.

OOO

It was all too much. Sherlock clenched his hands in his lap as he tried to take in everything that had happened since he had gotten back to Baker Street. At first, he had wanted to go straight to his bedroom and ignore John, but Sherlock hadn`t be able to do that. It was hard to admit it - even to himself - but Sherlock hadn`t wanted to be alone after... everything. On the one hand he had wanted John to take care of him, to talk with him, but on the other hand... Sherlock hadn`t forgotten what had happened between them a few hours ago. He hadn`t wanted John`s pity or - worse - his disgust and therefore... Sherlock had lashed out. Maybe, it hadn`t been his best idea to get undressed completely in front of John - since he was getting colder by the minute now - but Sherlock had wanted to see John`s reaction to what had happened to him. He had been prepared - or at least had believed that he was - for John`s disgust with him. Sherlock had told himself that John would blame him for everything that had happened, after the words he had thrown at Sherlock this evening, instead...

Blue eyes peeked up at John. His warm hands were still placed on Sherlock`s shoulder and his cheek, but he looked more nervous than he had before. Of course, John was nervous, the logical part of Sherlock realized, since John had just confessed to him that... Yes, what exactly had John confessed to him?

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at him. Usually, he would try to deduce what was behind all of John`s words, but Sherlock was too tired for that. Tired, drained, cold and aching. Sherlock only wanted to go to bed, but he knew that he wouldn`t find sleep, until he didn`t know exactly what John wanted from him. "You mean that you want to have sex with me?" John`s words had implied as much and although Sherlock would have been all too happy about that confession only a few hours ago, the thought made him feel sick right now. Certainly not, because these bastards had made him scared of sex, but rather because... Sherlock didn`t only want sex from John. It wouldn`t be possible for Sherlock to have a mere sexual relationship with him. Of course, Sherlock could work with John`s attraction to him and try to make John fall in love with him, but that thought didn`t sit right with Sherlock. At least, not now, after these imbeciles had only been after him for sex. It was illogical, but for once, Sherlock didn`t care about reason.

"Yes, I want to have sex with you, but," Sherlock looked away, preparing himself for some sort of rejection as John continued. "I don`t only want sex from you. I want more from you... all of you, if I`m completely honest. I want us to... be together. As a couple." Sherlock`s head snapped up at that. He searched John`s face for any indications that he was lying, that he was only trying to make Sherlock feel better after what had happened this evening and night, but Sherlock wasn`t able to find any hints of falsehood. There was only genuine affection and tenderness in the deep blue eyes, mixed with nervousness and uncertainty.

Before Sherlock was even able to think of an appropriate answer, John was speaking again. "I don`t expect a reply right away." John`s hand smoothed his curls and Sherlock leaned into the touch. "I just want you to know that I care very deeply for you and that I want to be together with you." A small smile flickered over Sherlock`s face at that. "You are repeating yourself, John." That earned Sherlock a nervous laugh.

"Yes, well, I`m not used to sitting next to your naked self on the couch and baring my feelings to you."

"Indeed." Sherlock didn`t know what else to say. Actually, he should feel happy about John`s confession and if it had come any other day, Sherlock would already be kissing him senseless and snuggling up to him, but right now... Sherlock only felt some warmth spreading from his chest through his body as he returned John`s smile with one of his own. It was truly too much for one evening, even for him and Sherlock needed time to think things through. He didn`t feel like his brain was working as it should and he certainly didn`t want to do something wrong, just because he wasn`t at his best.

"You should take a shower and get warm and afterwards, I`m going to take another look at your back." Sherlock nodded in agreement, but remained sitting on the couch. From the corner of his eye, he saw John rolling his eyes at him as he got to his feet. "Oh come on, you need to get warm. Usually, I wouldn`t mind you sitting naked on the couch, but..." Sherlock looked up in time to see how John bit his lips, a look of utter horror crossing his face and it didn`t need a genius to know that was chastising himself for his choice of wording. "Don`t," Sherlock warned him and grabbed John`s shoulder for support as he got to his feet. "Don`t treat me like I`m made of glass. I don`t mind teasing and I certainly don`t mind lying naked on the couch more often, but I need some time to process everything." An understanding smile lit up John`s face. "That`s fine. Take as much time as you need." Sherlock suppressed the impulse to tell John that he would only need as much time as it took him to realize that he wasn`t dreaming, before he would make a decision... probably in John`s favor. Instead, he allowed John to lead him to the bathroom and hand him fresh towels. "If you need help, call me, otherwise I will be waiting outside."

Sherlock merely nodded, before he closed the door and stepped under the spray of the shower, intent on washing away all the traces the hands of these bastards had left on him.

OOO

Sherlock stayed in the bathroom for over half an hour and John was glad that he had already showered this evening. It would be a small miracle if there was any warm water left, after the Sherlock was finished.

John had taken the time to bring his first aid kit to Sherlock`s room. It had calmed his nerves as he had placed the necessary items on the nightstand and placed a fresh towel on top of the bed sheets. After all, John was used to taking care of Sherlock like that and he hadn`t needed to think about his confessions as he worked through the familiar routine. But now, while John waited for Sherlock to emerge from the bathroom, he felt himself getting nervous once more. Hell, it was stupid to act like a teenager who had just asked the most beautiful girl out to the ball and feared rejection. Alright, John had practically asked more of Sherlock than going out to a dance with him, but there was no need for him to fear rejection... right? John clenched and unclenched his fists nervously as he listened to Sherlock`s moving through the bathroom.

Sherlock had told him that he was interested in John as well and he had forgiven him for his cruel words and... Maybe, Sherlock was just tired and didn`t want to argue tonight. Sherlock had pretended to be interested in someone for lesser reasons - for a case - and John wouldn`t be surprised if Sherlock told him in the morning that he didn`t want him.

John sighed. He wouldn`t even hold it against Sherlock if he acted like that. Not after everything John had done, but it would definitely hurt if he did that.

"Do you want to stay here all night or do you still want to check on my injuries?" Startled, John looked up at Sherlock - wrapped in a towel - and cocking his head wonderingly at John. Dear God and Sherlock looked fantastic like that! A shuddering breath escaped John`s parted lips as he stared at Sherlock. His hair was even more tussled than usual - some locks curling cheekily on his forehead - and his skin was flushed with the heat from his shower. A few drops of water ran down Sherlock`s chest, teasing the pink nipples, only to fall down after a second and get soaked up by the towel around Sherlock`s hips.

"John!" Sherlock`s voice sounded exaggerated, but when John`s gaze snapped up to his face, he also noticed the nervous look in these unbelievable blue eyes, along with the swelling of Sherlock`s right cheekbone. Christ, he had stared at Sherlock, when there were much more important things to do. John quelled the arousal he had felt at seeing Sherlock emerging from the bathroom like that and forced himself to concentrate on what he had to do. "I have brought my medical kit to your bedroom, if that`s alright with you."

John only realised now that it wasn`t proper protocol to just walk into the bedroom of your flatmate, without asking first. Even if that flatmate was your best friend and might return your romantic feelings. Instead of commenting on any of that, Sherlock merely nodded and moved to his bedroom. John followed him, hovering insecurely in the doorway as Sherlock rummaged through his drawers and threw a pair of outworn pajama bottoms on his bed.

"You might want to sleep with a top as well, otherwise you might soil the sheets." Sherlock only snorted and went to sit at the edge of his bed, gesturing for John to come in. "I assure you my pajama tops are more expensive than the sheets and I don`t want to try to get the salves," Sherlock pointed to his nightstand. "Out of pure silk, although it would be an interesting experiment." A small grin tugged at John`s lips as he came to stand in front of Sherlock to examine his face. Trust Sherlock to make it sound like no big deal that his pajamas were made of pure silk... it probably wasn`t for him. "Your cheek will be swollen for some time, but there isn`t anything broken and your lip isn`t split too badly. I would suggest some ice cubs in the morning if it starts to swell." John spread some of the salve on Sherlock`s cheek. The contact felt almost to imitate and John had to restrain himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to Sherlock`s. Certainly that wouldn`t be a well-received move after he had told Sherlock that he had all the time in the world to decide if he wanted John in this way as well.

Sharp blue eyes followed his every move as John took a step back and he cleared his throat in an effort to remain professional. "Do you have any difficulties breathing? There is a large bruise above your ribs."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I don`t have any pains that indicate that I suffer from internal injuries, John. Trust me, if I did, I would have told you by now. As much as I detest hospitals, I don`t fancy bleeding to death."

"But you are in pain." John gathered from Sherlock`s voicing.

"It`s to be expected, my back is sore, but there aren`t any open gashes."

It was John`s turn to roll his eyes at that. "Of course, you can see what`s on your back. Lie on your front and I`ll take a look at it."

Blue eyes stared at John as he gestured to the towel that was still lying on the covers. It took John a second to notice that his command might have been a bad idea. Sherlock had just been beaten up and would have been raped, if it hadn`t been for Mycroft`s interference and here was John, ordering Sherlock to lie on his stomach. For Christ`s sake, wasn`t John able to do something right once in a while. He was just about to take his words back, when Sherlock huffed in mocked annoyance and sprawled himself face down on the bed. Seconds ticked by in which John could only stare in astonishment at Sherlock. He had expected a snarky remark from Sherlock, but not such obedience, especially not in light of recent events.

"I would really like you to go on with your examination, John." Sherlock`s muffled voice sounded from the bed. "I don`t like to admit it, but I`m tired and it would really help if you got things done."

"Of course," John chastised himself for his hesitance as he climbed on the bed to kneel next to Sherlock. His back was bruised in some places and John applied a great amount of salve to the swelling on his upper back, where the print of a shoe sole could be seen. There were other, minor bruises and a few scratches, but all in all, John didn`t have much to do. He had just finished covering Sherlock`s back with salve as his gaze flickered to the towel that still covered Sherlock`s backside. From what he had seen the bruising there wasn`t too bad - although John hated what it implied - but some salve could help with the discomfort. His hands grabbed the towel before John could think about it twice and only when Sherlock`s buttocks were bared to him, did he realise that his actions might give Sherlock the wrong idea.

"Sherlock," John called hesitantly, the hand with the salve hovering over Sherlock`s perfectly shaped butt. The only answer John got was a stifled laugh as blue eyes glanced at John over Sherlock`s shoulder. "Really John, there is no chance that I would confuse your professional fussing with something else." John glared at Sherlock and the mirth left the blue eyes to be replaced by a more serious and softer expression. "I trust you, John, go ahead."

John exhaled a breath he hadn`t been aware of holding, before he did as he was told and spread some of the salve on Sherlock`s buttocks. He forced himself not to let his hand linger on the smooth flesh and also withstood the desire to smack Sherlock teasingly when he was finished. That certainly would take things much too far. John put the salve back on the nightstand. "I`ll bring you a glass of water and some paracetamol." John announced, before hurrying out of the room.

It took him some time to wash a glass - Sherlock had used all of them for experiments - and grab some tablets from his room upstairs. When John got back to the bedroom, Sherlock had changed in his pajama bottoms and lay underneath the covers. His face was turned to his right and the usually, sharp eyes were closed.

Asleep, John mused and put the glass and the tablets next to the salve on the nightstand. Sherlock certainly needed some rest and John would be the last person to disturb him now. To tell the truth, John would have liked to exchange a few more words with Sherlock, only to reassure himself that Sherlock wasn`t completely against the idea of entering a relationship with John, but... that could wait until the morning. With a small smile, John turned to leave Sherlock to his well deserved sleep, when a muffled voice called him back.

"Stay."

Surprised, John turned to Sherlock. One eye was cracked open as he glanced at John, but it was obvious that he was only barely awake. Still, John stepped back to stand next to Sherlock`s bed. "Do you need anything?" His hand automatically reached for the painkillers, but Sherlock moved his head in negation. "Not these. You. Stay."

Sherlock lifted the corner of the blanket and skidded back on the bed to make room for John.

His heart had never beaten so fast, John was sure of that as he took a cautious step forwards and met Sherlock`s - now open - eyes.

"Do you really want me to..."

"Yes, John, please."

Something passed over Sherlock`s features as he said that, but John wasn`t able to place the fleeting emotion. He only knew that Sherlock rarely said _please_, therefore he truly wished John to share his bed tonight. And who was John to deny Sherlock such a wish?

"Alright," John muttered as he slipped under the covers. He barely had the time to arrange himself in a comfortable position, when Sherlock`s arm went around his back and Sherlock snuggled into his side. John held himself very still, not daring to breath as Sherlock sighed contently and buried his nose in the crook of John`s neck. A few seconds passed, in which John got used to the warm weight against his side and he was just about to lift his hand and ran his fingers through unruly locks as Sherlock`s head snapped back up. If John hadn`t drawn his head back, Sherlock`s scalp would have connected painfully with his chin.

Blue eyes looked uncertainly at John. "Is that alright? I know that people usually only lie together like that after sex, but I would like it very much to stay this way."

John took a shaky breath at that. Who had given Sherlock the impression that he was only allowed to ask for cuddles, when he had sex with them? John certainly would like to have a word with them, just to make it clear how stupid they were, but... that wouldn`t happen now. No, now he had to make sure that Sherlock felt comfortable and got a good night`s rest. John drew an arm around Sherlock`s waist and cradled his head with his other hand. "It`s perfectly fine like that. Just go to sleep, Sherlock."

For a brief second it looked like Sherlock might say something as his blue eyes looked surprised at John, before he thought better of it and snuggled his nose in the crook of John`s neck once more. A few minutes later, Sherlock`s deep breaths ghosted over his skin and John felt his own eyes growing heavy as well. John fell asleep, while he held Sherlock protectively against him.

OOO

John was gone!

Sherlock didn`t even have to open his eyes to know that. His side, where he had been snuggled against John, felt cold and there was only a slight dent in the bed sheets, where John had lain. Sherlock took a shuddering breath as the realisation hit him. Of course, he should have known that John would leave his bed as soon as possible. Stupid to believe that John would want to stay, when it was highly doubtful that he would get sex from Sherlock in the morning. After all, no one had ever bothered to share a bed with him, when they hadn`t had sex beforehand - except for Mycroft when they had been younger, but that didn`t count. Sherlock should have known that it had been too good to last long, when John had confessed his feelings to him last night. It didn`t mean that he believed that John had lied to him. No, it was more likely that he had felt sorry for Sherlock and had wanted him to feel better. John might even have meant what he had said back then. Still, John had had to be scared when he had woken up next to Sherlock and had remembered what he had told him.

Sherlock buried his face in the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of John that still lingered on the fabric. Maybe, John could be persuaded to stay more often in his bed, if Sherlock offered him sex. It certainly wouldn`t be a hardship to sleep with John and he knew that John was a caring lover. Sherlock wouldn`t get everything he wanted that way, but at least it would be more than he had had all this time.

The opening of the door to the bedroom and the clattering of ceramic made Sherlock look up from his place on the bed. John sat down on the edge of the bed, two mugs in his hands and smiled warmly at Sherlock. "I didn`t want to wake you, but since it`s already past ten, I thought a cup of tea would be welcome if you woke up."

Sherlock could only stare at John as one mug was held out to him. John hadn`t left the bed, because he had felt uncomfortable next to Sherlock, but to make tea... for both of them. The realisation hit even harder than when Sherlock had believed the opposite.

"I have added three spoons of sugar and a lot of milk, just as you like it." Sherlock startled at that, but finally sat up and accepted the tea from John. His back ached as he leaned back against the headboard and the pain must have been evident on his face, since two paracetamol were offered to Sherlock right away.

"Thanks." He washed the tablets down with a mouthful of tea - sweet and milky, just the way Sherlock liked it - and then looked back at John. He was sipping his tea quietly and it was obvious that he was thinking about something, but for the life of him, Sherlock couldn`t figure out what exactly was running through John`s head.

"Sherlock," John finally started and set his mug down on the nightstand. "What I said to you last night..." John hesitated and Sherlock tensed. That was it! John was going to tell him that he hadn`t meant it and that Sherlock should forget all about it, if he wanted their friendship to continue.

"...What do you think?"

Sherlock blinked.

John sighed.

"You should really listen to me, Sherlock!"

"Sorry, please just..." Sherlock gestured for John to repeat his words and after another sigh, John obeyed. "I said that I meant what I said last night and if you are willing, I would love to enter a relationship with you, if that`s what you want."

Sherlock put his mug down as well, afraid that he would spill tea everywhere as his hands started to shake slightly. What John had just proposed sounded fantastic, but Sherlock had to make sure that it was exactly what he hoped it was. "You want to have a relationship to have sex with me?" John didn`t look offended by the question, but a sad expression passed over his features as he gazed steadily at Sherlock. "No, Sherlock, I want to have a relationship with you, because I care for you and want to share my life with you. I want to hold hands at a restaurant, after we have just caught a murderer and hug you when you feel like shooting the walls again." Sherlock felt his eyes widen at this simple statement. It sounded so perfect and somehow... romantic. Sherlock almost missed John`s next words as he tried to wrap his mind around John`s idea of a relationship. "I`m certainly not against snogging you in a dark alley or making love with you when we both feel like it, but... that`s not what`s the most important part about a relationship."

Sherlock was grateful that he had put the mug away, otherwise he would have spilt tea on the bed at this point. His hands were certainly shaking worse than they should be, considering that Sherlock was sitting lazily in his bed and chatting with John. Only this wasn`t a normal chat and... John was still waiting for his answer. Sherlock closed his eyes briefly, gathering all of his courage as he jumped in at the deep end. "I would like to have that kind of relationship with you, as well." Sherlock had often witnessed how people cringed at his words - when he deduced them - or how their faces turned into grimaces of anger, but he had never seen someone react like John.

His whole face brightened as his eyes met Sherlock`s. A second later, John was kneeling next to him on the bed and leaning down to press a chaste kiss against Sherlock`s lips, before drawing back. At least, John would have drawn back, if Sherlock hadn`t hold him in place with a hand to John`s neck. "Either you kiss me properly or I`ll think again about starting a relationship with you."

Blue eyes narrowed down at him. "I don`t want to rush anything." _And I don`t want you to think that I`m only after you for sex,_ Sherlock read the unspoken words in John`s features. Warmth spread through him and made Sherlock smile up teasingly at John, instead of snapping at him. "Kissing properly doesn`t have anything to do with rushing, but if the location makes you uncomfortable, we can also move to the kitchen if you feel pressured in my bed." John`s whole body relaxed at Sherlock`s words and he leaned in closer again, so that their mouth were almost touching. "I find your bed much more comfortable for kissing than any other place." Sherlock wasn`t able to reply to that as his breath was stolen from him by soft lips. True to John`s words, it was a proper kiss this time and Sherlock drew him closer to relish the feel and taste of John. His body heat seeped into Sherlock as John leaned against him, tasting of mint, tea and milk as they kissed and it was... the perfect way to start their morning after a horrible night. Even more perfect, because Sherlock knew that more mornings like that would follow this one.

Mornings filled with tea, kisses and John. Always John!


End file.
